


Wolf's Den

by wretchedhag



Category: Fate/Grand Order
Genre: Coming Untouched, Creampie, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Multiple Orgasms, No Aftercare, Rough Sex, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-20
Updated: 2020-08-20
Packaged: 2021-03-06 12:20:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25969585
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wretchedhag/pseuds/wretchedhag
Summary: Izou wants to do something about Hijikata's smug sense of superiority, but he ends up getting more than he bargained for.
Relationships: Okada Izou | Assassin/Hijikata Toshizou | Berserker
Comments: 2
Kudos: 32





	Wolf's Den

**Author's Note:**

> my interpretation of hijizo is that izou sets out to knock hijikata down a peg while hijikata fucks him just to shut him up. of course, izou doesn't accomplish his goal at all and ends up getting wrecked, but since he's terrible at processing his own feelings he's going to keep coming back.  
> i think i actually started getting more into this ship the more i worked on this fic... i'm a bit surprised it turned out as long as it did, even after making cuts. i hope you enjoy reading it!

Izou can’t stand Hijikata Toshizou. He acts all high and mighty because he was the dreaded vice-commander of the Shinsengumi and thinks of himself as a samurai, but at the end of the day he’s no better and no different than Izou himself; wrap it up in all the fancy language and so-called noble intentions that you want, but a manslayer is a manslayer. 

Izou would like nothing more than to drag Hijikata down into the gutter with him and watch as that smug expression slides off his face. Which is exactly what he intends to do. Challenge him, aggravate him, push him to the edge until Hijikata finally breaks and is exactly where Izou wants him. 

But for a Berserker, Hijikata is more level-headed than Izou had been betting on. He doesn’t rise to Izou’s taunts and, more often than not, ends up brushing him off completely. It frustrates Izou and pisses him off, but only makes him want to accomplish his goals that much more.

One day, after this situation had been going on for a while, Master pairs them together for a data-gathering battle simulation. Izou makes a show out of complaining about the set-up, but he’s inwardly ecstatic; beating Hijikata in a fight would definitely deal a blow to his ego. 

In a simulation of a forest, Izou and Hijikata face each other from several feet apart; Master is off to the side, a safe distance away from them, like a referee. Izou smirks and taps the back of his kodachi against his shoulder, taunting Hijikata. Hijikata adjusts his stance, but there’s no other reaction.

Da Vinci’s voice comes through the speakers and orders them to begin. Hijikata charges at Izou with breakneck speed; when their swords clash, the force of the impact reverberates throughout Izou’s entire body down to the marrow of his bones. It’s an exhilarating sensation.

They’re both aggressive, bloodthirsty, and there’s no doubt they’d tear each other apart if this were a real battlefield. If they had fought during their lives—or if Hijikata had been the target of one of Izou’s assassinations—it would have been over in an instant. Being Servants gives them the luxury of being able to go all-out for as long as their Magical Energy lasts, giving them the opportunities for battles they never could have had while alive. 

They’re equally matched, neither gaining the upper hand and each getting some good blows in, until Hijikata draws his musket and fires. It takes Izou by surprise, and while he manages to deflect the round with his blade, he doesn’t pay attention to how Hijikata has closed the gap between them. Izou is shoved to the ground, and his sword is knocked out of his hand and clatters out of reach. Hijikata, his feet firmly planted on either side of Izou’s chest, points his own blade at Izou’s neck.

“Alright, stop!” Da Vinci’s voice fills the room again. “We’ve got enough data now. Simulation over! Thank you for your hard work, everyone.” 

When Da Vinci finishes speaking, the illusion of a forest disappears, and the room returns to being cold white tile. Hijikata sheaths his sword, but Izou grits his teeth and slams his fist against the floor in frustration. The fact that Hijikata is quite literally looking down at him makes Izou boil with rage.

“Damn it! What the hell!” Izou swears.

Hijikata, unaffected by the outburst, leans down towards him. “Hey, manslayer. Come to my room tonight.”

Izou’s attention snaps to Hijikata’s face and he glares with intensity. “You think this means you can order me around?!”

Hijikata regards Izou for a moment, holding his gaze, before saying simply, “Take it how you like.”

He steps away and strides out of the simulation room, and Izou is left alone on his back as Master runs towards him.

And yet, here Izou finds himself later, standing outside the door to Hijikata’s room. It’s not as if he’s listening to that man’s command—he just can’t let go of losing a fight that he had set out to win. And besides, who says something like “Come to my room,” after shoving a person to the ground? He wants to know what the hell is up with that.

There’s a second where Izou considers knocking, but he wants any amount of control over the situation that he can get. Even if Hijikata isn’t in right now, it doesn’t matter; things would be just that much more in Izou’s favor if Hijikata were to return and find Izou already there waiting for him. So, Izou goes ahead and barges in.

Unfortunately, the vice-commander is in. He looks up from the book he was reading as the automatic door slides open. Izou waltzes in like he owns the place, then stops in the middle of the room and crosses his arms. Hijikata’s room is different from what Izou expected—he was prepared for some recreation of the Shinsengumi’s headquarters, but the room is the same as any other in Chaldea. Spartan, even. Though, Izou swears he can see a barrel of pickles through the gap in the closet door.

“So, what? You wanted me to come here so you could rub in what happened, is that it?” Izou asks.

Hijikata takes his time in setting his book aside and walking over to where Izou stands. It’s that sort of attitude that really pisses Izou off—just get the damn thing over with and cut to the chase.

“Don’t play dumb with me,” Hijikata says. “You’ve spent all this time desperate for my attention, and now you’re going to act like you don’t understand what this is? I’m giving you the attention that you want, so are you going to take responsibility for it or not?”

It takes Izou a moment to process what Hijikata is insinuating, and when it finally clicks, he can’t help but bark out a laugh. Everything leading up to this, Hijikata thought it was because Izou wanted his attention? That he wanted to be noticed by someone like him?

It’s hilarious, but… not entirely off the mark. He _was_ trying to get his attention, just not for the reason that Hijikata thinks. So, what if Hijikata doesn’t know Izou’s real intentions, the whole reason he was doing this? They were always going to end up at this point, in a bedroom. Hijikata just made it easier for him by skipping to the end and inviting Izou in himself. And when everything does come together, the payoff will be that much greater for Izou.

He’d be an idiot to pass this opportunity up.

“’Take responsibility’? Who was it that invited me here?” Izou challenges.

“You made your own decision to come. I’m going to give you another choice—stay and see this through or leave.” Hijikata steps closer.

Izou smirks, “You actually think you’re some kind of big, bad wolf, don’t you?”

“And you’re a pet dog who thinks he’s at the top of the food chain because he barks at anyone who walks by his fenced-in yard.”

The tension between them is thick. They’re both too obstinate to back down, and while they both rub each other the wrong way, there’s still some strange magnetism between them. It’s as if lightning could strike in this very room.

“I’m gonna stay. You were a man of action, right? So, you better be able to do more than talk big.” Izou says.

Hijikata closes the remaining distance between them and gets into Izou’s space. He takes hold of Izou’s jaw with a rough grip and leans close.

“I’m going to make you understand the meanings of _discipline_ and _obedience_ ,” Hijikata whispers.

Izou shivers at Hijikata’s words and curses himself for it. He’s always had a bad habit of putting himself into other’s hands and letting them make decisions for him, so it can’t help but get him going when Hijikata insinuates that’s his idea for what’s going to happen here. And besides, that’s counter to Izou’s own ideas—he’s going to be the one in control here, even if Hijikata thinks it’s himself.

“That so? You were a bigshot when we were alive, but you’re just a Servant now. There ain’t much difference between us anymore, _vice-commander_.” Izou jeers.

“You sure know how to run that mouth, don’t you, manslayer?”

“What are you going to do about it?”

With his hand still on Izou’s jaw, Hijikata leans in and bites Izou’s bottom lip. It makes Izou draw in a breath and Hijikata takes that opportunity to force his tongue into Izou’s mouth. He was the one to call him a dog, yet here Hijikata is licking inside Izou’s mouth like one. Hypocrite.

The way that Hijikata kisses reminds Izou of the way that he fights; it’s intense and powerful with the intent to overwhelm Izou into submission. But there’s no way Izou is going to let that happen twice in the same day. He bites down on Hijikata’s tongue and sucks, relishing in the grunt of pain he hears and the salty-sweet flavor of blood. 

When they finally part, panting, an obscene gossamer thread of red-tinted spit keeps their lips connected. Izou breaks it by dragging the back of his hand across his mouth. He grins—his head already feels hazy, almost like he’s drunk.

“You’re impertinent,” Hijikata says, “but I’ve reigned in mutts like you before.”

Izou plants his hands on Hijikata’s chest and sticks his tongue out to provoke him more. “I wanna see you try.”

Hijikata brushes Izou off then turns and makes his way to the bed. He sits down on the edge of it with his legs spread apart, and motions for Izou to come closer.

“Strip,” Hijikata orders, “and get on my lap.”

“You’re gonna spank me?”

“I told you already, you’re going to understand discipline. Dogs who bite their owners get punished.”

Izou laughs, “Does that First Unit Captain of yours know her beloved vice-commander is a perverted bastard?”

Hijikata ignores Izou’s taunt, but whether he was going to answer or not didn’t really matter to Izou; he just wants to get underneath the other man’s skin. But all the same, Izou does as he’s told and kicks off his shoes then strips off the layers of his clothes until he’s only in his fundoshi. He leaves his clothing in a pile on the floor and walks over to Hijikata. 

Izou won’t show it, but if he were being honest, he’s excited as he lays over Hijikata’s lap. He’s asked Master to spank him before on some occasions and she obliged, but Hijikata is a Servant and has larger hands. There’s no doubt that he can hit Izou harder and cover more area. This is supposed to be a punishment, but it’s doubtful that Izou’s going to glean a lesson from it.

Now that Izou is in position, Hijikata squeezes a handful of Izou’s ass as if getting a feel for it; there’s a layer of fat on top of the muscle, enough that it rounds out Izou’s ass and Hijikata’s fingertips are able to indent his flesh. Izou grunts as a pleasurable sensation shoots up his spine from Hijikata’s fondling and prodding. The way that his leather gloves creak only stokes the fire in Izou’s stomach even more.

Seemingly satisfied with what he felt, Hijikata braces his left forearm across Izou’s back to keep him in place. His right-hand rests gently against the curve of Izou’s ass. 

“One-hundred times.” Hijikata says plainly and sternly as he raises his hand. “Keep count yourself. If you lose track, we start over again.” 

“One-hundred?! You sadistic wol—”

Izou’s disbelief turns into an undignified squawk as Hijikata’s hand comes down on his cheek. The echoing smack of leather-on-flesh reverberates off the walls.

“What number was that?” Hijikata asks.

“H-huh?”

“Were you even listening? Count properly, from the beginning.”

Hijikata’s hand comes down again and Izou yells, “ _A-ah!_ Tw—No, one! That’s one!”

“That’s better. Try to keep it up.”

The rhythm they slip into is nearly hypnotic. Hijikata’s hand falls on Izou’s ass, and Izou obediently cries out what number that was, again and again. The pain is quick and sharp, but soon replaced by a pleasurable numbing buzz. Izou can feel himself growing hard within the confines of his fundoshi and he moans.

To his credit, Hijikata provides equal attention to each side and slowly increases the force behind each hit instead of going all out from the start; it’s more consideration than Izou had expected from someone like him. This apparent skill with spanking makes Izou wonder if the Berserker has done this before, perhaps in life, in the barracks of the Shinsengumi…? The idea gives him a perverse sense of pleasure and makes him laugh.

“Is something funny?” Hijikata asks, his hand poised above Izou.

Izou swears under his breath. “No.”

“No? Then why were you laughing? Does this tickle? Do you want me to hit you harder, is that it?”

Hijikata smacks Izou with more force than before and Izou gasps as the feeling seems to travel throughout his entire body, up to his head. He quickly tries to remember what number that was and call out the count.

“For-forty-five!”

And again, just as rough.

“Forty-si _iiix!_ ” Izou shrieks. “Shit!”

“What, are you already at your limit? We’re not even halfway.” Hijikata taunts.

Even if this were his limit, Izou’s pride would never allow him to back down, and so he boasts, “Ha… You wish… This is nothing.”

Hijikata makes a noise somewhere in the middle of affirmation and amusement.

Having the body of a Servant means that it can withstand more than a regular human’s, and as such pink coloring is just beginning to bloom across Izou’s backside. Despite the durability of Izou’s body and his bravado, though, sweat is beading on his forehead and there’s a warmth behind his eyes that he knows precludes tears. 

Every time Izou’s hips jerk forward with the impact of a hit, his clothed cock ruts against Hijikata’s thigh. Not to mention, he can feel Hijikata’s hard erection underneath his stomach. The dual sensations drive him mad, and Izou wants nothing more than to reach between his legs and relieve some of that pressure. But considering what just happened, Hijikata would notice if Izou tried to get himself off and would make them start this count from zero all over again as punishment. Izou tightly balls his fists into the sheets to discourage himself.

By the time they reach past the halfway point, Izou’s legs are shaking and his face glistens with sweat and tears. He gets a brief reprieve, however, as Hijikata tells him, “Hold still,” and reaches over to rummage in the bedside table. Izou doesn’t even bother to look to see what Hijikata is doing or looking for and instead crosses his arms in front of him on the bed and rests his forehead against them as he tries to catch his breath. 

There’s the sound of something being uncapped and squeezed, then shortly after the sound of an item being dropped onto the bed. Izou doesn’t notice the back of his fundoshi being pushed aside and he yelps in surprise when the bare, slick pad of Hijikata’s finger presses against his entrance. 

“What the hell?!” 

Izou whips his head up and attempts to look over his shoulder. Hijikata isn’t even fazed by Izou’s outburst in the least and continues to sink the finger of his left hand into Izou; Izou hisses through his teeth at the feeling.

“We’re continuing like this,” Hijikata says without even looking in Izou’s direction. “Start counting again, where we left off.” 

This time, instead of on the cheeks, Hijikata’s gloved right hand comes down on the bottom of Izou’s ass and the backs of his thighs. The vibrations from the strikes only enhance the feeling of Hijikata’s finger inside of him and it takes all Izou’s focus to even keep track of what number they’re reached. His back arcs in pleasure, lifting his chest from the bed, and his cock twitches against Hijikata’s leg with every blow.

“S-Seventy-t—!!”

Izou’s count cuts off as Hijikata’s finger finds his prostate just as his other hand strikes his thigh. The combination of sensations pushes Izou over the edge; he cries and scrabbles at the sheets as his orgasm wracks his body.

“Is a finger all it takes for you to come? Are you that much of a whore, or just pent-up?” Hijikata asks as he pulls his hand away when Izou settles down.

“Like you’re one to talk,” Izou pants. “You were hard the whole time. Ain’t my fault if you can’t finish.”

Izou hauls himself over Hijikata’s lap and onto the bed proper, then rolls his palm over Hijikata’s erection, which still strains against the confines of his pants. “Must hurt,” Izou licks his lips and grins. Hijikata bats Izou’s hand away, unamused. 

“Get on your knees, then. Show me what you’re actually worth, manslayer.”

Izou bares his teeth in a faux snarl, but crawls towards the head of the bed, nonetheless. He strips off his soiled underwear and tosses it aside, then gets comfortable on his elbows and knees. He has no intention of helping Hijikata undress, and the other man didn’t ask for it, so Izou watches.

Hijikata is fairly quick at undoing the various straps and buttons of his Western-style clothes, but he actually takes the time to set his clothes on a chair rather than throw them on the ground as Izou did. The glove of his right hand comes off first, then his harness. After that is the vest, and then the button-up shirt. When his torso is finally exposed, watching the movement of his back muscles gets Izou’s mind moving. 

Really, Hijikata’s build only further exacerbates Izou’s strange mix of attraction and annoyance. The man practically has an hourglass figure with his broad shoulders and tapered waist. From laying on top of Hijikata’s lap, Izou felt how strong and built his thighs are. His thoughts flicker back to the simulation match earlier in the day—Izou knows firsthand just how much destructive power is contained within Hijikata. All of that is even without making mention of the sculpted definition of his musculature. It’s much to Izou’s chagrin, but physically Hijikata fits his type in men. 

Not that he’d ever say that out loud, of course. 

The bed creaks and dips as Hijikata, finally undressed, climbs up behind Izou. Seeing the red hue Izou’s backside has taken on, he makes a noise of appreciation at his handiwork and lightly draws a line across the skin, which makes Izou gasp. Hijikata then picks up the bottle of lube he had tossed aside earlier and slicks his fingers. 

He slips two fingers inside of Izou, and it doesn’t take long at all for Hijikata to find his prostate again. Izou wraps his arms around the pillow underneath him and spreads his legs further apart. He pushes back against Hijikata’s hand as he works, craving more stimulation, and he begins to get hard again. 

Hijikata adds a third finger and Izou grows impatient. He tries to hijack Hijikata’s motions and fuck himself on his fingers but Hijikata presses his free hand against Izou’s back and uses his weight to keep him still. Izou struggles, but it doesn’t get him anywhere and he’s forced to lay there obediently. When Hijikata takes his hands off and out of Izou to do something behind him, Izou’s impatience grows even more. 

“Hurry _up_ , will yo…” 

Izou’s complaint trails off as he turns his head to see Hijikata slicking his member with lube; packing something this size explains why Hijikata’s such a self-important asshole, and to be honest, the sight of the length and sheer girth of it makes his own cock throb. He imagines himself stretched out across Hijikata’s cock, and it makes him want to shove the man down and impale himself.

Hijikata notices Izou’s staring and chuckles, which grinds on Izou’s nerves. “Something wrong? Are you scared, manslayer?”

“Tch. I’ve seen bigger.” Or so Izou claims.

He turns his face away again, his lust encroached by annoyance. Hijikata takes a moment to rest his cock in the cleft of Izou’s ass, just to taunt him and let him know the weight of it. It’s this kind of thing that really makes Izou hate Hijikata.

Hijikata pulls back, his little detour to rile up Izou done with. He grabs Izou’s hip with one hand to keep him in place and, without any other sort of preamble, pushes in. Involuntarily, an embarrassing whimper escapes Izou’s lips and he presses his mouth into the pillow to stifle himself. It’s like he’s being split open as Hijikata guides inch after inch into him, but any pain from the stretch blends with Izou’s masochistic sense of pleasure.

After what seems like an eternity, Hijikata finally bottoms out inside of Izou. Izou is given a merciful moment to acclimate to the sensation as Hijikata adjusts his position, but it’s such an all-encompassing feeling that there’s no way to get used to it. His stomach feels hot and it’s as if his body has molded itself around Hijikata’s member. Hijikata leans over Izou’s back and presses his weight on top, which only presses his cock in deeper, and Izou moans.

“You know,” Hijikata says softly into Izou’s ear, “the way you kept following me around yapping was really getting irritating. I’m going to give you exactly what you asked for, so don’t whine about it later.”

Izou lets out a strangled laugh, “You’re full of yourself even in bed, huh?”

“Rich words from a brat.”

Izou rolls his eyes as Hijikata sits back and takes hold of his hips. He can talk all he wants, but it’s not like having a big dick means you’re worth a damn at using it. However, that thought is pushed out of Izou’s head as Hijikata thrusts into him so hard that the air is practically knocked out of his lungs. It sends a shock through Izou’s system and sets his nerves on fire.

Those few moments when Hijikata adjusted his position were clearly all the respite that Izou is going to get because Hijikata’s actions are relentless. He pulls nearly all the way out of Izou, leaving him feeling empty and wanting, before slamming into him again, over, and over. He has a bruising hold on Izou’s hips and pulls them up to meet his thrusts, probably as punishment for Izou’s impatience.

Izou’s mouth falls open and he grips the pillow underneath him so tightly that his knuckles blanch. If the sensation was all-encompassing before, when Hijikata wasn’t even moving, then Izou’s entire world has narrowed to this singular bed and its occupants. He can hear his own strangled moans drawn from his lips, Hijikata’s breathing above him, and the creaking of the bed below them. Every point of contact between them is burning hot like an iron. It’s unbearable.

Izou’s head is suddenly wrenched up by his hair, and he bites his lip so hard he tastes blood, all to keep from moaning as Hijikata pulls his head back.

“How does it feel to become the Shinsengumi’s mutt?” Hijikata drawls.

“Ngh… shut up. I’ll kill you.” Izou growls.

“Heh, you’re bold to still be barking out threats. Or maybe just stupid.” Hijikata’s palm comes down on Izou’s ass and makes him yelp. “Know your place, manslayer. You’re mine now.”

“Don’t make me sick.” Izou tries to glare, but it doesn’t come out quite as intimidating as he’d hope when he’s looking over his shoulder.

Hijikata doesn’t reply and instead takes hold of Izou’s jaw with the hand that had been pulling on his hair. He pries open Izou’s mouth with his thick, blunt fingers and shoves two inside to keep it open; like a mad dog, Izou immediately tries to bite down but finds that Hijikata managed to spread his fingers apart in such a way that Izou’s bite is largely ineffective. He’s left petulantly salivating around the intrusions with his drool quickly running down his chin. 

Hijikata leans closer and slowly licks a stripe up Izou’s neck that makes him shudder. Without his scarf, the choker of scar tissue around his neck is in plain view and it’s there that Hijikata decides to focus his attention. He wraps his lips around a spot and sucks, and there’s no doubt in Izou’s mind were he to look in a mirror later he’d find a hickey. 

With his mouth forced open, there’s no way for Izou to muffle his own cries. He mentally curses not only Hijikata but his body’s own sensitivity as the other man continues to suck hickies into his skin while roughly thrusting into him. A high-pitched, keening cry is suddenly ripped from Izou when Hijikata bites down on the crook of Izou’s neck and hits his prostate simultaneously. For the second time that night, tears are drawn from Izou’s eyes. 

“You’re finally making noise worth listening to,” Hijikata praises.

Hijikata withdraws his fingers from Izou’s mouth, but before Izou can even think, he’s being shoved back down onto the mattress with his head turned to the side. Hijikata presses one hand against Izou’s head and uses the other to hold down one of Izou’s wrists to keep him in place; Izou has no choice but to try to keep pace with Hijikata’s thrusts on his own.

“ _Aahh_ , damn it…! You filthy… Wolf of Mibu!” Izou swears.

Hijikata hits that spot inside Izou again, and again, and each time Izou moans and cries as his tears and drool spill onto the pillow. Hijikata’s thighs keep smacking into Izou’s ass—still sore from the spanking—which sends little shocks of painful pleasure through his body. The air is permeated by the sound of skin-on-skin and ragged breathing, peppered with Izou’s moans and Hijikata’s grunts.

Izou can feel his orgasm building deep in the pit of his stomach, and his cock aches to be touched. He hadn’t dared to try earlier, but now he maneuvers his free hand underneath his body without reservation until he can wrap his fingers around his shaft. With precum already dripping from his cock, Izou strokes himself as roughly as Hijikata is fucking him. It doesn’t take long at all for Izou to reach the precipice. 

“Sh-shit, I’m gonna—”

A white-hot feeling tears through Izou’s body and his voice pitches and cracks as he comes, spilling over his hand and onto the sheets. Izou shakes and jerks as he rides out his second orgasm; his toes curl and his pinned hand flexes and tries to break Hijikata’s iron grip. Izou’s body goes limp, exhausted in the aftermath of his orgasm, and he doesn’t even bother to try to keep up with Hijikata’s movements anymore.

Hijikata doesn’t stop or even slow down and continues to use Izou like his personal fucktoy. More tears and moans escape Izou as his overstimulated body is fucked into. Every touch on his skin or thrust into the deepest parts of himself are like shocks to his core. Unbelievably, he can feel his cock getting hard for the third time.

After what seems like forever in his blissed-out state, Izou comes back to himself enough to notice Hijikata’s movements becoming more erratic and his breathing more strained. Figuring that the other man must be close, Izou tries to get his voice to work. 

“H-Hijikata,” Izou’s voice strains against his raw throat, “inside...”

“What was that? Speak up.” 

Izou doesn’t have to turn his head to know Hijikata is smirking—he can hear it in his tone.

“Come… inside me.”

“Hoh, you’re that desperate for my seed? But you’re forgetting something, Okada.” 

Izou doesn’t have the state of mind anymore to think about what it could possibly be that he’s forgetting. He stutters, “Wh-what…?”

“I told you… that I’d teach you what discipline and obedience mean. If you want this so badly, show me you understand.”

In any regular circumstance—or if it had been any moment earlier in this encounter, for that matter—Izou would huff and swear and make a big deal about being ordered around in such a conceited way. But he’s barely holding it together at this point; he’s so astoundingly overstimulated and he wants this so badly that he’s willing to do anything Hijikata wants to get it. So, he puts all his mental effort into stringing together something that will appease Hijikata’s ego.

“P-please, vice— _aaah—_ vice-commander Hijikata. Please… come inside me… I’m yours—I’ll listen to whatever you tell me, so please…”

Hijikata hums like he’s actually considering the sincerity of Izou’s words. “Not bad, for a manslayer mutt. Maybe you can be trained.”

Izou’s plea seems to have been enough, however. Hijikata’s hands find Izou’s hips again and he presses his full weight onto Izou, pinning Izou underneath him. One, two, three times Hijikata thrusts, then with a growl like a savage animal he spills into Izou. Izou can feel Hijikata’s cock pulsing against his inner walls and filling him up with his release.

It’s all too much for Izou, who peaks and climaxes once again. He screams and digs his nails into his palms so deeply that it hurts. There’s only a small, sputtering amount of cum released at this point, but waves of pleasure wash over him all the same.

Hijikata stays on top of Izou even after he’s finished coming and Izou doesn’t have any strength left to bother pushing him off; Hijikata doesn’t pull out until his cock begins to go soft inside of Izou. He looks down at Izou’s exhausted state, the way Izou’s face and shoulders are flushed pink and sweat glistens across his skin and makes a noise of appreciation.

Hijikata moves to the side of Izou, and Izou moans weakly as he’s hoisted up by his arms and maneuvered into a kneeling position. Upright, he can feel Hijikata’s release begin to ooze down his thighs. Hijikata’s breath is hot on Izou’s neck as he leans close and wraps one arm around Izou’s waist and uses his other hand to brush Izou’s sweat-down bangs away from his face. 

“Too bad we don’t have a mirror,” Hijikata’s voice is rough and low in Izou’s ear, “I want you to see what it means to belong to the Shinsengumi.”

Hijikata licks at where he bit Izou’s neck then drags his hand slowly down Izou’s torso, across the taunt and defined muscles. He keeps going, lower, lower, until he reaches between Izou’s legs. Hijikata pushes against Izou’s abused hole with his fingertips and forces his cum back inside Izou, which makes Izou whimper. 

“Don’t forget whose pet you are, Okada…”

Hijikata’s voice suddenly fades from Izou’s senses and his vision of the bedroom begins to tilt. Between this and the simulation earlier in the day, Izou must’ve used up too much Magical Energy without even realizing it. He pitches to the side and darkness encroaches on his vision.

“O... da…”

“H... Oka… da…” 

“...Hey, Okada!”

“Nnn…”

Hijikata’s loud voice brings Izou back to his senses and he forces his eyes open. Hijikata stands before Izou with the tips of his hair dripping wet, so he must’ve been in the shower while Izou was passed out. In his arms he holds Izou’s clothes, which he drops unceremoniously onto the bed.

“You’ve been in here long enough,” Hijikata says with a stern look on his face. “Hurry up and get dressed.”

Izou sits up and stretches his neck to the side until he hears it pop. It’s unfair that even as a Servant his body can feel this sore; every part of him hurts, but his ass is especially aching. No surprise.

“What a gentleman the vice-commander is,” Izou says sardonically. His voice is hoarse to the point that he barely sounds like himself.

“I don’t want to hear it. Get dressed or I’ll throw you out into the hall myself—doesn’t matter to me.”

“A sweet-talker too,” Izou mutters as he drags himself off the bed.

While it had been erotic in the heat of passion, Izou now grimaces when he stands up and feels Hijikata’s cum slowly leak out of him. Whatever, he did ask for it—he’ll just deal with it when he gets back to his own room. All things considered, maybe he should go back in Spirit Form… 

Then again, Hijikata’d probably get some sick sense of satisfaction out of that. Izou decides he’ll take his chances walking. 

Izou redresses gingerly. The silence that fills the room is almost louder than the two of them were, but what do they have to say to each other? Neither of them is the pillow talk type; it’d just be awkward, so this is for the best.

But as Izou makes his way into the hallway, they both know he's going to come around barking again.


End file.
